Chapter Seven: Mirafir’s Adventure
Mirafir Roven wherefore art thou?
MIRAFIR ROVEN HAS A DREAM:
Mirafir Roven is still unconscious, or is he?
Mirafir Roven suddenly finds himself back in the corridors of Castle Ravenloft, no not Ravenloft as the walls are not cut stone but carved from solid rock and they look familiar. Illefarn, Mirafir is back in Illefarn, alone and he is coming towards Mirafir but he can’t move. Mirafir looks down and can see he’s smoked and freezing cold. The figure comes even closer and its dark visage socks Mirafir into realising its Kelthas the Dread, No…Not Kelthas, its Strahd. Mirafir beings to have difficulties breathing as Strahd stretches out his arm, darkness takes you.
Mirafir Roven wakes again and he is in Count Strahd’s study holding the holy symbol of Ravenkind. The walls are lined with many doors, more than Mirafir can remember. Then that voice, cold and without felling, chills Mirafir’s marrow.
Strahd: “You cannot run and all eventually serve me, I offer my patronage for eternity”.
Mirafir Roven turns and runs, open the first door he comes to and runs down the stairs, down and down you go are you begin to tire and AGAIN, difficulty’s breathing.
Darkness returns.
Finally, Mirafir Roven hears a voice in the distance offering hope and light in the darkness that Mirafir Roven finds himself in. Still Mirafir Roven cannot respond and is somehow impeded. Again Mirafir shivers as he is surrounded by Darkness, Cold and Clammy. Mirafir Roven again try’s to talk and feels his lungs fill and can see the misty form of Strahd enter his mouth. Chocking Mirafir Roven stops breathing and hangs bound and in Darkness.
Father Tobias: “Saint Cuthbert! By His grace and power I may ‘Meld with Stone’ – but this will not aid us here! We are trapped!”
The pious and devout Father Tobias looks despairingly to the heavens as solid stone descends on all sides, encasing himself and the Wizard, Mirafir Roven, within the steel bars that have already imprisoned them. As if paralyzed by fear, the Wizard falls silent, frozen, yet his mind is racing: This trap has only one destination, an eternity of damnation as an infernal marionette – neither living nor dead – in the service of the perverse Count Strahd von Zarovich. Panic seizes the mind of the elven mage and a single thought becomes an urgent irresistible scream. His mouth involuntarily forms the words of the ancient incantation as his hands weave, arc and trace the shapes of the magical web to unleash an arcane power bound by the substance of the cosmos.
Mirafir: “Ypool rekoons evad dna sahc! BLINK!”
In the instant that the spell is unleashed, Mirafir Roven immediately regrets his action. A moment of panic has forced him to play his hand precisely when he should have sought calm and readiness. As the power of the spell unfolds, he feels the shuddering jolt of shifting between planes of existence, bridging unimaginable gaps in the fabric of time and space… But something is wrong… His material being re-substantiates within the trap as Father Tobias stares in disbelief. Mirafir Roven tries to speak, but his words are lost as the process begins again, only this time, the trap has suddenly begun to move upwards – and at speed! Regardless, the result is the same, and Mirafir Roven re-forms in the unorthodox elevator, a real fear now growing that he may be forever ensnared in the realm that exists in parallel to our true plane of existence, a golden ethereal cage, from which one might gaze upon the world, but never be a part of it. A viable alternative to becoming a mindless but malignant slave? Perhaps. Mirafir Roven has no time to consider the pros and cons of this dire choice, as once again his physical form fades, vanishes and then re-appears… somewhere else!
The ground beneath his feet is solid and unmoving. His keen Elf ears are deafened by the clanking mechanical noise of the lift trap reverberating around Castle Ravenloft. The cacophony comes to an abrupt screeching halt as the lift comes to a standstill. As far as Mirafir Roven can guess, the trap has come to a halt perhaps just one floor above his current position, wherever that may be… Unfortunately, he realises, every inhabitant of the Castle probably also knows exactly where the lift trap now is.
FACING GUARDIANS:
Father Tobias can see a heavy door of delicately engraved steel stands at the WEST end of this short, dark hallway. Intricate details stand out clearly on the door’s surface. The door seems to shine with a light of its own, untouched by time.
Flanking the door are two alcoves in shadow. A dark, vaguely man-shaped figure stands in each alcove.
As for the wizard’s current position, his innate infravision quickly adjusts to the complete darkness and he realises that he is in a short corridor. One end is a spiral staircase, and the other is an ornately crafted metallic steel door, two shadowy alcoves at either side. If the staircase goes up, Mirafir Roven can perhaps get to Father Tobias. The question he asks himself is if it will be before or after every other servant of Count Strahd has arrived… Or should he go down, find his colleagues and then rescue the Cleric?
The dilemma is quickly resolved: The staircase goes upwards and down. In addition, he suddenly senses that he is not alone… Two pale but curiously luminous forms emerge from the alcoves, black shadows that emanate cold, vaguely humanoid and with glowing red eyes. They have clearly sensed Mirafir’s presence and it is only a matter of time before they find him.
Mirafir Roven has to act, but what should he do? “If I cast blink again, I risk being delivered into their arms. ‘Protection from Evil’ will just limit their attacks but will not save me. Wait! To escape them, I must become one of them! ‘Wraithform’. The spell is cast in an instant, a piece of gauze and a wisp of smoke quickly consumed in magical fire, and suddenly the world of the Wraiths is revealed to him. It is cold and dead, and the two wraiths now are seen as they truly appear; malignant guardians of the realm of living death.
A downward glance reveals to the Magic-User that he is now identical and indiscernible to the two undead abominations. They hover hesitantly, confused and distracted, and drift almost as if out of habit towards the spiral staircase.
Mirafir Roven remains rooted to the spot. He cannot hope to outrun these malign apparitions and must trust in the illusion he has woven around himself: And it works, as the Wraiths pass him as if he is not there. He has become nothing more than a shadowy resident of their realm, and not a target that they are seeking. A deathly chill passes through him as they glide within inches in the narrow corridor before floating noiselessly down the staircase.
With growing assurance in the spell, Mirafir Roven follows them down. Perhaps in the level below he will find his friends? What will they make of him in his current form? No time to think too much about that now, his time in wraith form is limited and he must move quickly. The staircase circles down past a door, strangely familiar, at which he chooses not to halt, instead continuing down behind the wraiths as they descend to another level. This he recognises quickly: It is the level with the suit of armour – a possible Golem? And the level where the adventurers were first hosted by an organ-playing Strahd on their arrival.
The Wizard turns and heads back up the stairs to the door on the next level. What was behind this door? He stops and listens. His elf ears can hear the sound of quill scratching on paper… The accountant! The wraiths are closing in and Mirafir makes another snap decision to cast ‘Protection from Evil’ on himself. His spell powers are now almost spent as he utters the arcane text to unlock the ancient protection of the spell.
Sadly, the accountant’s hearing is patently also very keen:
Leif: “Stop! Who is there? A Wizard? A Wizard! Oh no, that will not do! That will not do!”
Mirafir Roven hears the sound of a rope being pulled which in turn activates a bell alarm, which reverberates deeply and loudly throughout the very roots of the mountain of Castle Ravenloft.
Mirafir (to himself): “I must move! And quickly! Count Strahd’s hordes will be descending on this very spot!”
The Mage continues up the stairs and runs towards the ornate steel door. The steel door is engraved with images of a human king in armour astride a horse, a majestic range of mountains and shooting stars in the background. Tiny figures of people and wolves frame the image. Paralysis momentarily seizes the wizard but reason soon overpowers his fear and drives him to try the door. It is not locked.
DINING HALL OF THE COUNT:
Dust assaults your lungs. A sweet yet pungent smell of decay fills this room, in the centre of which stands a long oak table. A blanket of dust covers the table top and its fine china and silverware.
In the centre of the table, a large, tiered cake leans heavily to one side. The once white frosting has turned green with age. Cobwebs hang like dusty lace down every side of the cake. A single doll figure of a well-dressed woman adorns the crest of the cake.
Suspended above is a web-shrouded chandelier of forged iron. An arched window in the SOUTH wall is draped with heavy curtains. Resting in a wooden stand by the window is a dusty Lute, and standing quietly in the SOUTHWEST corner is a tall Harp shrouded in cobwebs.
Mirafir Roven moves in, looks out of the window south, moves towards the cake, finds a Groom figure on the floor and takes the Bride from the cake, then takes a look out of one of the windows. Mirafir then listens at west door and hears dripping. Listens at north door and hears a roaring fire.
STUDY:
A blazing hearth fire fills this room with rolling waves of red and amber light. The walls are lined with ancient books and tomes, their leather covers well-oiled and preserved through careful use. All is in order here. The stone floor is concealed beneath a thick, luxurious rug. In the centre of the room is a large, low table, waxed and polished to a mirrored finish. Even the poker in its stand next to the blazing fireplace is polished like new.
Large, overstuffed divans and couches are arranged about the room. Two chairs of burgundy-coloured wood with padded leather seats and back cushions face the hearth. A huge painting hangs over the mantelpiece in a heavy, gilded frame. The rolling firelight illuminates the carefully rendered portrait. It is an exact likeness of Ireena Kolyana. Though the painting is obviously centuries old, the likeness is unmistakable.
Mirafir Roven realises that this is the room from Madame Eva’s card reading.
Madame Eva: “This card is a symbol of great power. It tells of a powerful force for good and protection against the forces of darkness. It is in a place of tranquillity, a harbour for the mighty and powerful. It is in a place of wisdom, warmth, and despair. Great secrets are there. A woman hangs above a roaring fire. Find her, and you will find the treasure.“
Mirafir Roven cast ‘Detect Good’ and searches around the fireplace. He notices the painting but nothing good behind the fireplace and within his spell range. Checks the room before he leaves and finds the ‘Holy Symbol of Ravenkind’ in a small box on one of the tables and puts it around his neck.
Mirafir Roven heads back to where he first blinked, down the stairs 50’ feet. The 2 Wraiths are back looking for Mirafir whose ‘Wraithform’ spell has nearly runout. Mirafir heads through the western door of the study.
KING’S BEDCHAMBER:
Sweet smells waft from this delicately lit room. A great arched window along the west wall is covered by heavy red draperies, their golden tassels glinting in the light of three candelabras sitting atop small tables about the room.
Tall white candles burn with bright, steady light. A large bed, canopied by silk curtains, sits with its headboard against the north wall. Carved into the headboard with great skill is a large “Z.” Lying amid the velvet and satin sheets and bedclothes is a young woman in a nightgown. One of her dainty slippers has fallen to the floor at the bed’s foot.
Mirafir has found Gertruda, Mad Mary’s daughter. Young and innocent. Fearing the Wraiths Mirafir casts ‘Web’ from his mother’s ring on the area and door leading to the Study. Mirafir listens at the south double doors and can hear that dripping sound again.
BATH CHAMBER:
Red satin curtains hang in archways at both ends of the south wall in this dark room. Between them, in the centre of the chamber, stands a large, ornate iron tub with clawed feet.
Mirafir heads towards the western curtain followed by Gertruda. Gertruda points out that the bath is full of blood but Mirafir avoids it. Mirafir looks behind the curtain.
CLOSET:
The walls here are lined with iron hooks, upon which hang black capes and formal wear. Two arched windows in the SOUTH wall are covered by heavy curtains.
Gertruda moves to the bath and touches the blood, then suddenly.
A blood-drenched, skinny, naked creature explodes out of the tub and attaches to the ceiling, cackling maniacally. Blood pours off its pale flesh, bony limbs, and stringy hair as it scuttles away.
Mirafir moves into the Closet leaving Gertruda alone. Mirafir moves to the south-west window and looks out, wiping the dust off the panes.
TURRET POST ACCESS:
You are in a ten-foot-wide walkway that encircles most of the keep. The drizzle of rain continues, punctuated by the occasional clap of thunder or stroke of lightning. Far below these parapets are the shining wet cobblestones of the courtyard.
Gertruda screams and Mirafir hears something hit the floor. Not sure if you cast another spell here?
Mirafir heads back to the Bath Chamber, finds Gertruda laying on the floor and no sign of the blood soaked creature. Gertruda had fainted and the blood had disappeared from the bath.
They both head back to the closet and to the south west window. Mirafir uses his Dagger to smash the glass and they can both just about squeeze through the frame of the window.
They both hear the voice of Strahd shout out.
Count Strahd: “Noooo, who dares to steal from me, from my own Castle? Death, Servitude and Pain awaits you all.”
They head east along the parapets; can see the middle inner wall connecting the outer curtain wall to the main castle. Heading east they find more spiral stairs heading down.
GUARDS’ STAIR:
The long, hollow sigh of the wind breathes a semblance of life into this otherwise featureless staircase.
They move down slowly with no light and Gertruda clinging onto Mirafir but within his ‘Protection from Evil 10’ Radius’ cast from his Scroll.
TURRET POST ACCESS HALL:
This long, narrow corridor runs east and west. Cobwebs fill the hall and obstruct sight beyond a few feet.
Mirafir fears an attack and they move down the stairs avoiding this corridor.
TURRET POST ACCESS HALL:
This long, narrow corridor runs east and west. Cobwebs fill the hall and obstruct sight beyond a few feet.
Mirafir find the same situation on this floor but moves on into the webs and darkness, using his Magic Daggers to slash through the webs. Ahead Mirafir finally come to a corridor heading north and a hexagonal room to the west.
TURRET POST:
A high, domed ceiling caps the thirty-foot-wide octagonal room before you. Frescoes faded with age adorn the ceiling, but their images are impossible to make out. Tall, thin arrow slits look out over the courtyard.
The wind howls as lightning flashes across the rain-filled sky, the angry rumble of thunder follows swiftly. Mirafir grasps Gertruda by the hand:
Mirafir: “Speak only when I tell you to. Do everything that I say. There is a chance we may find my friends, and then there is a chance we will survive!”
Her doe eyes stare back into his but there is little light in them.
Gertruda: “My heroic knight! You will save me!”
Mirafir Roven curses his luck. Sadly Gertrude appears to have inherited the characteristic her mother, Mad Mary, is chiefly renowned for.
SOUTH ARCHERS’ POST:
The castle courtyard is visible through arrow slits in the NORTH and WEST walls. Leaning against the walls are mirrors of various sizes, some as tall as a human and others small enough to fit in a backpack.
A tall, dark figure in a flowing cape floats in the middle of the room.
They run back down the spiral staircase until they are at the ground floor.
Mirafir Roven leads Gertruda along a narrow long corridor. As they reach the corner at the end, Mirafir cautiously peers around to see what is there. His breath suddenly freezes, and a shiver of terror courses along his spine. Floating, suspended in the air, is the figure of Strahd.
Count Strahd: “Ha! Ha! HA! Mirafir! You cannot escape ME! Why, didn’t you know? This is my realm! RETURN TO ME THAT WHICH YOU HAVE STOLEN FROM ME!”
But the voice isn’t coming from the floating figure of Count Strahd but from behind him! Strahd is moving up the passage behind him! The Wizard pushes Gertruda before him and runs past the floating mannequin and begins desperately searching for a secret door in the dead end.
Count Strahd casually makes his way to the corner and smiles wryly as he observes the frantic elf attempting to escape.
Count Strahd: “I said GIVE IT BACK TO ME!”
Mirafir pulls out the ‘Holy Symbol of Ravenkind’ and attempts to channel its power against the Vampire:
Count Strahd: “By the Great Will of Zagyg! I cast you out! Abomination!”
Momentarily, Strahd hesitates, a flicker of concern flashing across his face. But the wry smile quickly returns, as he then chuckles at the futility of Mirafir’s efforts. Once again, he holds out a hand, and the symbol is wrenched from the Elf’s grasp, flying unerringly into the grip of the Count.
Count Strahd: “And now, Mirafir, I offer you a choice: Surrender to my will, and things shall be easier for you. Resist and things will be more … unpleasant.”
Mirafir: “Never! If I must die, then so be it!”
The Wizard makes a last futile attempt to find an exit as several Vampire Spawn close in on him from above, next to and below and begin to batter him into submission. As the blows reign down on him, the last thing Mirafir hears is the laughter of the count before darkness and silence envelopes him:
Count Strahd: “Take him below! Make sure he is uncomfortable! I have other matters to deal with first!”
